


A Scream That Pierces The Night

by Tommykaine



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Blackmail, Dark, Explicit Rape/Non-Con, First Time, Fucked Up, If You Like Twisted Stories You Might Like This, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Read at Your Own Risk, Unlikeable Protagonist, Unreliable Narrator, copying and reposting this work elsewhere without my permission is strictly forbidden!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26554141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommykaine/pseuds/Tommykaine
Summary: Vincent hasn't been to his hometown in fourteen years, since he left his wife and child behind to chase a more prestigious job.As luck would have it, as soon as he gets there his wallet get stolen and he has to chase the thief halfway through the city. But, when he finally catches up with him, he finds out that the delinquent who stole it somehow managed to lose it in the process.Annoyed by his careless attitude, he decides to teach that shitty brat a lesson and force him to pay him back in a different way.A story about the consequences of present and past wrongdoings and the price of a terrible mistake.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: COWT - Clash Of the Writing Titans/Chronicles Of Words and Trials





	A Scream That Pierces The Night

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you're here despite the warnings (and no-warnings...), all I have to say is you can expect some fucked up shit. Mostly psychologically but there is some physical violence as well. So, yeah, tread carefully.
> 
> This was inspired by a past and sadly long interrupted roleplay I had at some point in the past. I recently went to reread it, only to find the thread seemed to have disappeared from the forums. This greatly saddened me and prompted me to try and write down the initial premise so that I would not lose it again. If my past partner ever comes across this, I hope they enjoy reading it and know that it was and still is one of my favorite RPs <3
> 
> \---
> 
> BTW, if you'd like to have a look, I now have a website: [LINK](http://www.tommykaine.com/). I will post some exclusive stories on there so be sure to check it out from time to time! And if you join my mailing list ([X](https://www.tommykaine.com/mailing-list)) you can access some exclusive stories (for free).
> 
> Also if you wanna follow me on twitter just go [here](https://twitter.com/Tommykaine91) (I'm Tommykaine91), while my tumblr is [here](https://tommykaine.tumblr.com/)

It had been fourteen years since he last saw that place. If someone had asked him, Vincent would have been willing to bet he'd never set foot there again.

And yet, there he was.

Fourteen years, but everything was just the way he remembered it. He idly wondered if his ex-wife still lived in the same apartment they used to rent. Probably not.

Regardless, it wasn't like he would have visited her either way.

He had few regrets about leaving the way he did.

It wasn't like he skirted his responsibilities. He sent her a sizable amount of money each month to pay for his child's expenses. He would have more than enough for a good college if the bitch didn't spend it on useless shit, but that was on her and not him.

It wasn't like he got up and left without a word. He had tried to get her to leave with him at first, but she'd refused to. Stubborn as always, it was as if she couldn't understand how much of a huge opportunity it had been for him.

“Why do I have to be the one to follow you like a faithful dog?” she had complained. “I've got a job too, you know!”

As if her leaving her shitty part-time job to move elsewhere could be compared to him giving up on his career to stay there.

He used to love her back then, but even at the time it really got on his nerves. He just couldn’t believe how stupid she was being.

He had tried to insist. It hadn't been his fault if she had decided to stay in that town in the middle of nowhere, keeping their son with her. Not like he tried to get custody, the last thing he needed was to have to take care of a four-year old while his job demanded his full attention and effort. He figured the kid would be fine without him.

Anyway, that was in the past. He wasn't going to look for them _now_ , that was for sure.

Still, as he left the main station and waited for a taxi, Vincent couldn't help but think back to them. To idly wonder what they were up to.

Maybe that was why he didn't notice the thief.

Not in time to stop him, at least, before the little bastard ran off with his wallet, trying to get lost in the crowd before he could catch him.

“Hey!” Vincent yelled, chasing him through the streets and almost getting run over by a car in the process. That little shit had no idea of who he was messing with! “Get back, you thief!”

He chased him for several minutes, silently thanking his own strict exercise regimen for his stamina, before finally cornering him into an alley.

“Give me,” he panted, trying to catch his breath as he looked over the stranger. Some brat who was barely of age to be out there that late. _Good God._ “Give me back… my wallet.”

The younger man didn't even have the decency to look ashamed, if not for the theft itself at least for getting caught. Instead, he scoffed and rolled his eyes, before slipping his hands into his pockets. Then his brown eyes widened, his movements growing more frantic as he patted himself down, searching for the stolen goods.

“Uhm so, you will never believe me but… I've lost it.”

Vincent stared down at him in disbelief.

_This fucking brat._

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snapped, his annoyance growing by the second. “Do you know how much of an hassle it will be to substitute everything that was in there? My driver license, my credit card… everything!”

The younger man scoffed and muttered something along the lines of 'not that much of a loss'.

“What is it that you said!?” Vincent growled.

First he robbed him, then he tried to mock him, too? Was he actively trying to piss him off? If so, it sure was fucking working.

“You can probably afford to get all that back and more,” the thief grumbled, only adding to his annoyance. “You look like you're made of money.”

Then he'd tried to dart past him, but Vincent stopped him, grasping on his arm and slamming him against the nearest wall.

“You're not fucking going anywhere,” he told him in a low, threatening tone, grasping on the hem of his t-shirt and holding him there, looming over him.

He eyed him up and down. He took in his colored hair, brown with blue streaks, and the lip ring that blemished his otherwise attractive face. The kid was staring up at him, a defiant look in his brown eyes. Still no shame, not even an ounce of fear or anything of that sort. He just seemed irked, as if that was nothing but a mild annoyance to him.

Vincent's eyes narrowed, staring down at him with disdain. No doubt he was a good-for-nothing brat who spent his parents' hard-earned money on drugs, piercings and other ungodly things of that sort. He felt his blood boil at the mere thought.

He wanted to teach him a lesson.

“Are you going to let me go already? I'm sorry for your stupid wallet, alright?” the boy grumbled. “How about I help you find it, and you don't call the cops and we call it even?”

Vincent's lips curved up into a smirk.

“I've got a better idea.”

Before the boy could ask him what he meant, he grasped on his wrist hard enough to bruise it and dragged him forward.

“Hey, what the fuck? Where are you-”

“Shut the fuck up. I've got a phone-call to make,” Vincent snapped at him, punctuating his words with a cold glare. “I'll drag you straight to the police station if you try to make a ruckus.”

The boy rolled his eyes and looked like he wanted to give him a piece of his mind, but it seemed he had enough common sense to bite his tongue and look away, pouting in silence.

 _That's more like it_ , Vincent thought, grinning.

He took out his phone, calling the hotel he was supposed to be staying at to warn them he'd be cancelling his visit. He was annoyed since it was an all-expenses included stay that his company was going to pay for, at one of the top hotels in the town. Not like he could get in without some way to prove his identity.

Plus, his plans had changed now and it was better to choose a different kind of establishment. One that would not look too closely and ask too many questions.

“You've got money, right?” he asked the brat, who huffed in response.

What, you expect me to pay for your shit? Unlike you I'm not loaded.”

“No, but I expect you to pay for a motel room. I had to cancel my stay thanks to your little stunt and I've got no driver's license or anything to prove my identity, so you'll have to take care of that.”

The boy's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“A motel room… and you expect me to come there with you? Yeah, right. For all I know you're some kind of serial killer, in fact you look like the type. Fucking creep.”

“Would you rather I bring you to the police then?” Vincent replied. “Or to your parents' place, to let them know what their son gets up this late at night? Are you even supposed to be outside at this hour?”

The boy's face turned red. Whether just out of anger or because of the thought of being dragged back to his parents like some kid was embarrassing to him, Vincent wasn't sure, but he didn't care really.

“That's none of your business,” he grumbled, but he didn't look back into his eyes. “Alright, fine, whatever, I'll come with you. You don't have to be such an ass about it!”

“Oh, I'm sorry I haven't shown my manners, maybe you should have fucking thought about it before fucking robbing me,” Vincent snapped back, and that seemed to shut him up for good.

The boy stayed silent for the rest of the trip. Not like it took long. Vincent didn't exactly remember where everything was but he had a pretty good idea of the general area where a motel could be. Especially the kind of motel he was looking for.

The young man at the counter was not that much older than the one Vincent was dragging along, from the looks of it. A twenty, maybe twenty-something-year-old guy with straw-colored hair and freckles and a gap between his front teeth. He was chewing gum and barely lifted his eyes towards the duo, putting down the magazine he'd been reading and sitting straighter on his office chair, clicking something on the computer in front of him.

“Evening. Can I help you?”

Vincent shot the brat a warning glance before letting go of his wrist. He watched as the boy glanced back to the door, as if he was considering making a run for it, then sighed and fished his own wallet out of a pocket to pay for a room for two and give him some sort of ID.

Meanwhile, Vincent looked around and wondered what were the chances that someone had noticed them getting there, and that the guy there – Frank was the name on his tag – would remember them. Hopefully not too high. Besides, he would be gone in a couple days.

His visit there had been a formality at best, just because his boss needed someone to acknowledge that their old location still existed and was not being ignored, and he figured Vincent would be up for the job. It was hardly the first time he had to travel around, after all even at his age he was single and never remarried, so he had no wife and kids back home that would nag him for his absence.

Once the guy handed them the key to the room, Vincent moved forward to snatch it before the boy could. It occurred to him that he'd been so assorted in thought he didn't even catch his name, but it wasn't like he cared. 'Shitty brat' would do just fine.

“Good night,” he told the clerk, who had already gone back to reading his magazine and probably didn't even hear him. In another situation he would have remarked on his rudeness, but in this case it was a good thing that guy didn't give a shit about his customers.

“Let's go,” he said, grasping on the boy's arm again and dragging him towards the old-looking elevator.

“Why do I have to come too? You got your room, you don't need me now,” the other grumbled, though he sounded resigned enough.

 _Good._ It didn't look like he was catching on yet.

“We're going to have a talk,” Vincent replied, and the boy immediately rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, are you really going to lecture me now? I get it, stealing bad, I'm a bad kid who's gonna make his mama cry, yadda yadda, I get the picture! Can I go now?”

Vincent lifted one eyebrow at that outburst.

“You really are a handful, aren't you?”

He dragged him along as they got to the second floor and he looked for their room, opening the door and unceremoniously pushing him inside before locking it and putting the key in his pocket.

He looked around. As expected, the room was small and cramped. It looked cleaner than he would have thought, though he had to wonder what was the last time the sheets had been changed. He figured they would find out soon.

He was surprised to see there was even a minibar. He went to open it. Obviously, everything was overpriced and the selection was pretty much composed by two beers, two cans of coke and two bottles of water. He grabbed both beers and went to sit down on the bed, patting on the space next to him.

“Come here.”

The brat glared.

“Do I have to?” he asked in a defiant tone, but he strode towards the bed and sat down as instructed – or rather let himself fall with his whole weight, causing the mattress to creak in a threatening manner.

Vincent held back the sharp remark that was already coming up to his lips. Instead, he handed him one of the beers.

“Cheers.”

The boy looked at him like he had lost his mind, but when Vincent cracked open his own can and started drinking he shrugged and followed suit.

Vincent couldn't help but grimace at the taste. Of course it was cheap off-brand beer that only alcoholics would willingly pick from a supermarket. And whoever managed that motel, apparently. Still, he drank a few more sips before placing it on the nightstand.

The boy was still sipping on his own can. Maybe to postpone their talk. Or maybe he was starting to get nervous and second-guess his decision to go along with him.

Vincent couldn't hold back a grin. For being a young criminal he wasn't too bright, was he? Willingly following a stranger and agreeing to be alone with him. He had said it himself, for all he knew Vincent might have been a serial killer. Was he really that scared of going to the police, or was he just naïve? Either way, Vincent didn't care.

_It only makes things easier for me._

“So, does your mom know you're out there pick-pocketing strangers?” Vincent asked, shifting closer to him on the bed. Close enough for their thighs to touch, though the boy immediately closed his legs.

“Let me think… that's none of your fucking business,” the boy replied with a scowl before looking away.

Vincent scoffed. “You really are a problem child, huh? Are you so desperate for money, or is it a way to scream for attention? Like that dyed hair of yours?”

“Wouldn't you like to know.” The boy's answers were terse and huffy, but he seemed more insecure that he'd been while they were still outside. Maybe his aggressive attitude was a way to give himself courage. Vincent had to hold back from snickering. What a pathetic little act.

“If you're so desperate for attention, there are other ways to ask for it,” Vincent said, his hand moving to touch the other's tight. He chuckled when he saw him stiffen, when he saw the look of horror and realization on his face in the span of a few seconds. He saw his eyes dart back and forth between him and the door, before jumping up dashing towards the locked exit.

Vincent sighed loudly, more for the dramatic flair of it than out of actual annoyance. “Where do you think you're going? I locked the door.”

“Let me out you fucking sicko!” the boy growled, pulling and twisting on the handle as if that was going to make a difference. “Hey! Hey, someone, anyone, please hel-.”

Vincent strode across the room, slamming him against the door and slapping his hand on his mouth to shut him up. Of course the boy struggled, he tried to wriggle free and headbutt him and bite his hand, but Vincent was pretty strong, stronger than his lean built would suggest.

“Now, what did you think was gonna happen?” he asked him in a mocking tone, pressing his whole body against his to keep him there. “If you're dumb enough to follow some guy you don't even know into a hotel room and not think you're gonna get fucked, you've only got yourself to blame.”

The boy growled something against his hand. Vincent didn't care for it. He grasped on his hair and smashed his pretty face into the wooden door, hard enough to hurt him but not so hard as to make him lose consciousness. He heard him whimper and he smirked.

_That's more like it._

“Now, you can come back to the bed on your own, or I'll drag you there. It doesn't matter to me. Either way you're gonna pay me back for my losses. Since you said yourself you don't have the money for it, well there's only one way you can do it, isn't there?”

He chuckled, leaning in to lick one of his cheeks. The brat cringed and tried to turn his face but Vincent was still grasping on his hair, keeping his head still.

“So, what is it gonna be? Are you going to be a good boy or will I have to spank you like the shitty brat you are?”

He moved his hand away from the other's mouth, ready to clamp it shut again if he tried to scream. He could see that the boy was livid, and that he was thinking fast, probably evaluating his options. Finally, Vincent saw him look away and clench his hands into tight fists.

“Fine,” the boy hissed through clenched teeth. “Fucking fine, you sick fucking fuck.”

Vincent slowly released him, walking back to the bed and sitting down. He started to take off his shoes and his socks, glancing back to him when he didn't see him move.

“So? What are you waiting for?”

He quite enjoyed the look on the boy's face. That mixture of anger and defeat, with just a hint of fear. He probably was far more scared than he was letting on. Vincent wondered how hard it was going to be to make him cry.

He couldn't wait to find out.

The boy was about to sit back on the bed when Vincent stopped him.

“Why are you still dressed?” he asked sternly. “Haven't I made myself clear? Get out of those clothes. Or you'd rather I take them off for you?”

If looks could kill, Vincent would have dropped dead. The boy's lips were pressed together, no doubt to hold back some kind of rude remark towards him. Oh, it was all coming together so nicely, that was exactly what he'd been hoping for when he dragged him there.

He stared in silence as he watched him strip, smirking as he noticed the way his hands were shaking. So now he was afraid. _Good._ He had all the reasons to be.

_It's nice not to have to pay for this, for once._

Though he'd rather be sipping scotch in a five-star hotel than cheap beer that tasted like regret. On the other hand, he couldn't get this kind of thrill from a call-boy, so he guessed it was a fair trade-off. There was just something about the way the boy looked away with a mixture of humiliation and anger on his face while covering up his privates once his clothes were off, scattered on the floor without a single care. They were all going to be wrinkled up once he put them back on, Vincent couldn't help but think. He was a bit of a stickler for precision and tidiness.

“Nice. Now spin around, slowly. Let me have a good look at the merchandise.”

The boy glared daggers at him again. Vincent only smirked.

When he finally complied, Vincent told him to go slower and earned himself another glare. He was enjoying himself already, and it was just the beginning. It didn't hurt that the boy was exactly his type. Lean and athletic, without too much hair on his body. He wondered if he shaved or if he was just naturally smooth. The only things he didn't like, aside from the crazy colored hair and lip piercing he'd already seen, were the navel piercing and the small tattoo on his bicep. Why it had become so fashionable to ruin one's own body like that, Vincent had no idea.

“Not bad,” he remarked. “Not bad at all. Shame you had to go ahead and ruin it with those piercings.”

“Oh sorry I haven't thought of catering to your tastes, Mister Rapist” the boy sarcastically replied, unable to hold back any longer. “Next time some perverted old fuck wants to force me to fuck him I'll make sure to ask first.”

Vincent let the remark on his age slide, even if he wasn't even all that old. He was only forty-five, well forty-six in a few months. Then again, he had a good twenty-five years on the brat, at least. The kid looked like he was barely twenty. He had to be at least eighteen, right? The clerk wouldn't have let him book the room otherwise, so he couldn't be underage.

“I think you should start with a blowjob,” he said, and almost laughed out loud as he saw the look of scorn and disgust that instantly appeared on the other's face. “I don't really have lube, so you should try to make it nice and slick if you don't want me to rip your ass open.”

“There's probably a vending machine with this stuff here somewhere,” the boy retorted.

Vincent _tsk_ ed loudly. “Yeah, right, as if you wouldn't try to run off as soon as I opened the door,” he replied. “Plus I don't have money. Why is that the case, let me think… oh right, some shitty brat stole it from me and _lost it_.”

The boy sighed, then he gulped down loudly. It took him a few more moments before he finally decided to kneel down in front of him, between his legs. His eyes fell on the visible bulge straining against the fabric and he gulped again, muttering a small “ugh, fuck me” under his breath.

Vincent smirked and aided him by spreading his legs a little wider. He even did him the courtesy of unzipping his own pants and pulling out his own cock, which was already almost fully hard.

The look on the boy's face was priceless. Vincent couldn't help but wonder if this was the first cock he'd seen up close. He wasn't exactly small, but he wasn't huge either, yet the boy stared at it as if it was the scariest thing he'd ever seen.

“Well, get to it,” Vincent said after a while. Sure, the boy's reactions were entertaining and all, but his cock wasn't going to suck itself. “And careful with your teeth. If you wanna keep them inside your mouth, at least.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up already,” the boy growled, wincing as he lifted one hand and slowly started to stroke it. “Couldn't we take a shower first or something?”

“I clean myself thoroughly. That part as well,” Vincent replied, sighing in pleasure at the other's clumsy touch. It was clear he wasn't used to handling cocks, but that made it all the more arousing to Vincent. He was already hard as a rock and the boy hadn't even started sucking on it.

Once he finally did, Vincent grasped on his hair and hummed in pleasure. His technique left a lot to be desired, not enough tongue for starters, and he wasn't even trying to take more than the tip in. When Vincent pulled on his hair to force him take more, the boy gagged and tried to free himself, but he ignored it. When he let go of his hair to let him breathe he watched with a cruel satisfaction as the boy coughed loudly and retched.

“Fucking hell! Let me fucking breathe you asshole,” the brat growled, his voice hoarse and his eyelashes wet with tears that he was clearly struggling to hold back. Vincent felt his cock twitch at the sight.

“You'll want to try and get the whole thing wet. Remember? It's going into your ass next.”

He laughed at the other's alarmed look, a mixture of anger and fear, his beautiful face growing pale.

He didn't try to force it down his throat again, though he would have wanted to. A part of him would have loved to face-fuck him harshly until the brat was crying and drooling in front of him, and then finish off on his face to wipe off the last remains of defiance from it.

He only held back because he was fairly sure that the kid was a virgin, or at least he'd never been with a man before. He wasn't going to waste the chance to break him in, and he was going to cum inside him of course. Might as well exploit the chance when he could.

Maybe he would get him to lick his cock clean afterwards, and _then_ he'd cum again, this time on his face. He grinned to himself as he thought that. He quite liked that idea.

“I think this is enough,” he said after a while, quickly growing impatient. He wanted to fuck him already, wanted to feel his tight virgin ass and watch him as he cried, powerless to stop him.

The boy seemed glad to stop, although his expression fell after a few seconds, probably because he realized this meant something worse was going to follow.

“Get on the bed. On your back,” Vincent instructed him. As much as he would have liked to fuck him on all fours, like a bitch, he wanted to see his face as he took his virginity. “You can prepare yourself if you'd like,” he then added, as if it was a generous concession.

The boy turned pale as he forced himself to get up, his whole body trembling as he moved past Vincent to climb up on the bed and lie down as requested. He was eyeing him with concern as Vincent got up and started stripping, carefully folding his clothes and placing them on the only chair in the room. He felt no shame as he exposed himself to the other's eyes, he was quite proud of his body. He ate a fairly balanced diet and worked out, not so much as to get ripped but enough for his body to look lean and athletic, with some muscle showing in his legs and arms, and just a hint of abs on his flat belly. He also didn't smoke nor indulge in other vices aside from the occasional glass of liquor and the prostitutes, often in combination.

Sometimes women, but more often it was young boys between eighteen and twenty. He wasn't sure why but it was just more thrilling to dominate another man than a woman. He didn't consider himself gay or bisexual, he wasn't interested in dating a man and he'd never let anyone top him so in his mind it didn't really count. And it was almost always call boys since he liked the anonymity, he liked not having to give a fuck about who they were and he usually didn't even ask for their name. He just saw them as living fuck-dolls for his pleasure, pretty much.

From time to time, instead, it would be some unlucky brat like this one, dumb enough to follow him and find himself alone with him, either because he was too drunk to understand better, or because of some lie that Vincent made up, or whatever other reason. Only on a couple occasions, and only when he was sure he'd get away with it. Such as in that case.

Vincent approached the bed slowly, dragging things out on purpose, drinking down the other's fear as he climbed up on the creaky mattress and loomed over him, trapping him there with his body.

“W-what about a condom?” the boy asked, his voice shaking despite his best attempt to sound brave.

“Why, did you bring one?” Vincent asked. “Besides, what would be the use of getting my dick wet if we're gonna cover it up?”

The boy looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he bit his lip and looked away.

Vincent smirked, eyeing him up and down again. Oh, he was going to eat him up, and he could hardly wait.

“Don't worry, you're not going to catch anything from me,” he told him, though he knew the other had no reason to trust him. Not like he really cared to reassure him, he just felt like clarifying it. He got tested and all every now and then and he was usually careful to use protection. Usually.

He could have just shoved it in, but where would have been the fun in that? Instead, Vincent leaned in to kiss and lick his neck, chuckling when he heard him gasp and saw him shudder. The boy clearly was not expecting him to do that, and Vincent could tell he wanted to say something, maybe tell him to get on with it already and stop tormenting him, maybe beg him to stop, but either way in the end he just bit his lip and looked away, trying not to show how the man's touching was affecting him.

And Vincent knew it was, he could tell from the way his breath sped up, from the soft gasp that escaped him as his hands roamed across the boy's body, lingering on his thighs and on his chest. When his mouth moved to lick and suck on one of the boy's nipples, he felt a hand grasp on his hair and try to pull away at first, but then it just held on as the boy gasped and moaned, and when Vincent's hand moved up from his thighs to his cock he smirked, his finger wrapping around the other's half-hard length.

“Oh, what is this?” he taunted him, grasping on his hair to force him to look at him in his eyes, or at least to face him since the boy was stubbornly looking anywhere but his face. His own face was bright red and he was panting, his eyes wet with tears that still refused to escape.

“Don't tell me you're _enjoying_ this?”

“W-who would?” the boy replied, his angry tone hardly convincing. His fear was finally taking over, his aggressive façade crumbling as his body refused to listen to his will and was forced to react by Vincent's skilled touching. “You're just imagining things.”

“Oh? Am I imagining _this_?” Vincent insisted, stroking the boy's cock and chuckling when he saw him scrunch up his face and clearly try hard not to grow aroused, but it was useless. “I think you want to be fucked, after all. Maybe that's why you approached me in the first place.”

He knew it was not true, of course, he didn't need the boy to vehemently deny it and yell him to shut up to know it, but it didn't matter. He was just trying to rile him up, to get him to doubt himself and to eventually drive him to tears.

Regardless, when he felt he was fully hard he smirked and forced him to spread his thighs, positioning himself between them and pressing against his small hole. He could feel it was tight already, oh so deliciously tight, and the way those milky-white thighs trembled, the way that boy looked anywhere else while his face was still flushed and his nipples and cock were still rock-hard was everything that he wanted and more.

He thrust himself hard, forcing his body to open up and let him in, and he could only get little more than the first inch in. He saw and felt him tense up, he was shaking and grasping on the yellowed sheets and trying, trying so hard not to cry. It was kind of adorable, but in a twisted and fucked up way.

“Oh, God, you're so fucking tight,” Vincent gasped, leaning in closer to whisper directly against his ear and make him feel his hot breath on his neck. “Nh, oh yes, open up bitch, open up for me!”

He pulled back slowly and thrust himself back in again, feeling like the other's body was slowly starting to give in. It would take a long time but he could get it all in, if he was just patient enough and waited for his body to adjust to the intrusion.

He could do that.

Or he could slam his hips hard and _push_ , push until he heard him scream, and something wet and slippery started to ease his movements.

When he glanced down, he was not surprised to see that the boy was bleeding. Rather than worrying him, it only spurred him to fuck him even faster, grasping on his shoulders and holding him close as the boy's fingers clawed desperately at his back, as his screams and cries filled the room and he demanded, then begged him to stop.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , stop! Please! Please, I'll do anything! I’m sorry, _please_ , please stop!”

Vincent's pleasure reached a new high when he finally saw the boy's resolve crumble, when he saw the tears sliding down his cheeks and his shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

“Ooh, yes, that's it!” he growled, panting and thrusting himself faster and faster, feeling his own climax approaching, and he knew it would be any moment from then.

“Call my name out, bitch,” he groaned against his ear, before biting it. His hand went back to the boy's cock, it had grown softer but not fully soft, and he ignored the weak _no_ s and the pleas and the hand that tried to pull on his wrist and stop him.

“Call my name as we both cum!” he said, and laughed in his face. “Mister Cooper… no, call me Vincent.”

The boy's eyes grew wide.

“W-what… _no!_ ”

Vincent grasped on his throat, threatening to clamp down harder, all while he kept on fucking him harshly and stroking his cock at the same time,

“Do it, bitch!”

“No no no, wait, _please wait-_.”

“ _Do it!_ ”

The boy's sobbing had grown louder and his voice was rising in panic, still in the end there was nothing else he could do.

“V-Vincent!” the boy cried out, arching up as his hips moved against his will while Vincent's touch forced him to come, spurting his release on both of their stomachs.

Vincent came right after that, still grasping on his throat, and as soon as he pushed his whole length inside he kissed him harshly. He could taste blood and tears and it was like the most delicious of aphrodisiacs. It was enough to drive him over the edge, unloading himself deep inside the boy's body.

He remained like that for a while, just waiting to be done before pulling out and lying down next to him, panting.

“See, that wasn't so bad after all, now was it?” he said once he had caught his breath, but the other wasn't even listening. Instead, he mumbled something unintelligible.

Vincent frowned.

“What? Speak up, I can't hear shit like this.”

The boy hiccuped and drew a long, deep breath.

“I-I'm Sean,” he then whispered, his hands covering up his face as his small body was shaken by a series of silent sobs. “Vincent, I'm… I'm Sean.”

Vincent stared down at him. The laughter congealed in his throat, the blood flowing away from his face.

_No…_

He stared at him. No. He couldn't be, but those eyes, that face… if he ignored the piercing and the garish colored hair, didn't he look familiar?

Fourteen years. Fourteen years and he never once saw a photo, he never once heard his voice, so how could he know? _How could he know?_

“I'm Sean Cooper,” the boy whimpered, his body shaking and his sobbing growing louder, except Vincent realized that he wasn't sobbing, he was _laughing_. “I'm _your fucking son_ , you sick fuck.”

And Vincent screamed, he screamed and screamed until he had no voice, as the full weight of his sins came crashing down like an avalanche and crushed his spirit. And he screamed until his voice was hoarse, until he could no longer hear his son's hysterical laughter, a scream that pierced the night like the keening of a dying animal, and shook him to his core.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I normally reply to all comments so if you do not wish for your comment to be replied to for any reason, please add "hush" somewhere in it and I will quietly appreciate it instead.


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